


Skyrim is for Lovers

by orphan_account



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 13:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9898184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: They wake up in Skyrim. Stiles is enjoying it way more than Derek is.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A Skyrim AU that was started years ago, and then forgotten about. Will attempt to continue, but no promises.

What the hell had Stiles gotten him into this time?

That’s the first thought that crosses Derek’s mind when he wakes up, vision blurred and head pounding. He’s in a field somewhere. And… he’s wearing a tunic made of what he can only guess is rags. He remembers fighting a witch. Scott and Isaac were in front of him. Stiles was behind him, typing away on his laptop trying to find a spell to trap the witch, and then everything went black.

Where the hell was he? This wasn’t the nature preserve. This wasn’t even Beacon Hill. No part that he had ever been to anyways. To his right, there was massive stone wall surrounding what looked like a city, maybe. There’s a farm to his left and what looks like, holy shit. A giant? Derek had never seen a giant before but he was pretty sure that the thing attacking those farmers was a giant.

Oh god. He was in Westeros. Holy shit. The witch that the pack had been fighting in the nature preserve had teleported him into the world of Game of Thrones. This place did look a lot like something in the show the pack had made him watch last winter.

When in Rome, he thought. Or in this case, Westeros.

Racing forward, he noticed three others attempting to attack the giant. It was too risky to wolf out with people around so he stayed human. Jumping onto the back of beast, he grabbed around its neck and pulled back. The giant stumbled back as the axe of one of the other fighters found its way into the giant’s chest.

The fight was short with the four of them working together. Derek almost felt bad for the creature. These three were trained fighters. The red-headed female in the group approached him.

“I am Aela. That one is Ria and this one is Farkas. You handle yourself quite well. You’d make a fine shield-brother.”

Derek didn’t answer. He was trying and failing not to stare. Aela’s outfit was… revealing. Derek wasn’t sure how it protected her during the battle, or even stayed on. Ria and Farkas were more reasonably dressed in steal and leather armor.

“You already have the wolf spirit inside of you. We are practically brother and sister already.”

Derek’s head snapped up at her words. He was an idiot for not noticing sooner. These guys were werewolves. He could smell it now that the heat of the battle was over.

Aela explained the Companions to him. They were fighters, a group of brothers and sisters in arms who show up to solve problems, if the gold was good. “Not for me to say if you can join us. You’ll have to talk to Stiles in Jorrvaskr. If you go to him, good luck.”

“Hold on. You know Stiles?” Derek questioned but Aela was already walking away. He followed the group walking on the path all the way to the city. “Stiles is the Harbinger of the Companions. He has saved us all many times and has proven himself as a great leader and a greater warrior.”

Maybe this was a different Stiles.

-

The Jorrvaskr, as it turns out, is a building. The first thing Derek sees upon entering is two people fighting. They were just settling a disagreement, Farkas assured. He pointed Derek towards the backdoors of the building stating the Harbinger should be out there training with Vilkas, Farkas’s twin brother.

“It’s all in the swing. Let me show you.”

There was Stiles, dressed head to toe in what looked like armor made from scales. Plastered to his back was a man who Derek guessed to be Vilkas, showing Stiles a technique on swinging two-handed sword.

Stiles was laughing at his own poor swing until his eye looked up to link with Derek’s. “Derek,” he shouted. Running over to meet him, Stiles was beaming. “Derek isn’t this awesome! We’re in Skyrim-“

“Westeros,” Derek interrupted.

“What?” the two mimicked.

“Derek, this is Skyrim. We’re in my game of Skyrim off my computer, not Game of Thrones. I’m the Dragonborn. The Dragonborn, Derek!” Stiles was clearly excited, waving his hands around and pointing at the mountain in the distance. “And we’re in Whiterun. I’m the leader of the companions. I’ve slayed dragons and saved the world. I’m an amazing warrior. I can do magic.”

“You can do magic in the real world,” Derek replied.

“But not like this,” brought his hands and they were glowing. “I can shoot ice from my hands. I can heal myself and others. I can ride dragons. I’m something special here, Derek.” Stiles glanced over to Vilkas. “I have something special here.”

“None of this is real, Stiles. We can’t stay here.”

Stiles paused, and then deadpanned. “Yeah, yeah. You think I don’t already know that. I was just caught up in the moment.”

They sat down at the table in the courtyard, talking as they watched Vilkas and Aela spare. Derek admitted to himself that Aela was scary. Stiles told him that he had been here less than a day, just like Derek. They had arrived at the same time, but Stiles had inherited all the traits that his character in the game had, and since Derek had never played Skyrim he woke up with nothing.

“I’d already completed the main quest and most of the side quest lines with this character earlier this year. I’m not sure what quest we need to complete to get out of here. Maybe we should just wait it out. In Skyrim, quests can come from anywhere. If Scott and Isaac were transported into the game with us, they should end up here too.”

“Okay, fine. We’ll start fresh in the morning. Do we stay here?”

“We can stay wherever we want. I’ve got houses all over Skyrim. There’s one right down the street. It would be easiest to stay there or we can stay here with The Companions.”

Derek looked over at Vilkas and Aela before answering, “I’d rather not stay here.”

-

Stiles had convinced him that he needed to change out of his rag tunic. Derek didn’t see the point since this was a game, but just like in the real world he wasn’t good at saying no to Stiles.

“It’s called the Savior’s Hide. It’s one of my favorites.” Stiles held out a sword as a well. “And here is your sword. I just made it. I’ve maxed out my smithing trait so it’s the best you’ll find around here.”

Leave it to Stiles to be proud of fictional accomplishments.

Stiles took him around the city. Derek kept noticing that everyone knew and respected Stiles. People saying things like, “It’s a fine day with you around.” Stiles was beaming.

“They, uh, really like you here huh?” Derek murmured out from behind the rim of his glass of ale. They were the only two at the bar of the Bannered Mare, the finest tavern in Skyrim according to Stiles.

Stiles laughed, saying that they better. He went on to tell Derek about the several annoyingly long quests he completed to help the people of the city. Derek knew Stiles liked this game, had heard him talk about it and make references for the past year now, but he never saw the appeal. Magic, witches, and werewolves were all things Derek had in the real world. He didn’t want to spend his free time fighting them in a game too.

But he understood why Stiles might like it. In the real world, Stiles didn’t get to play the hero very often. Derek knew Stiles was an important part of the pack. He had wanted to make Stiles feel more significant, but wasn’t sure how to go about it without letting his feelings been known.

Derek had liked Stiles for a while now. He wasn’t sure when it started or how it happened. Stiles just snuck into his life, and then his heart. He couldn’t say any of that to Stiles, not yet. Derek knew Stiles found him attractive because he wasn’t that stupid, but Stiles had his whole life ahead of him and Derek was just this broken shell of a person. Stiles needed more. He deserved more.

Stiles was on his fifth bottle of ale by the time he finished the tales of his own heroism. He was slurring and giggling too often. “Let’s head to the house,” Derek suggested.

It turns out that Stiles house was right next to the blacksmith forge. Stiles fumbled with the key before finally getting the door open. “Welcome to mi casa. Honey, I’m home,” he shouted. At first Derek thought Stiles was making a joke, but then he spotted Vilkas by the entryway.

What the hell was this guy doing here?

“Hello, my love. Back from another adventure I bet,” Vilkas said in his thick accent.

Stiles giggled, falling into Vilkas’ arms. “Hello, my love.” He copied. “Derek, have you met my husband? This is Vilkas.”

“Your husband?”

“Yep! In Skyrim, you can marry almost whoever you want. We had our wedding in Riften, at the Temple of Mara. She’s the goddess of love.” Vilkas had no complaints about Stiles clinging to him, and completely ignored Derek all together.

Stiles gave Derek a quick rundown of the house. A small room with a single bed was designated as Derek’s. “It belonged to my housecarl, but she’s taking care of my house in the Pale right now. I sent her there because I don’t like her very much. She’s more annoying Scott on pizza day.” Stiles was still slurring, but it was just more words that Derek didn’t care to understand.

“I’ll be right down the hall in that bedroom right there with Vilkas, my husband.” Stiles chuckled. “My husband, that’s crazy right.” Stiles yelled down the hallway to where Vilkas was, “Hey Vilkas. Do you like being my husband?”

“My love. I will stand at your back so that the world may never over take us.”

Derek rolled his eyes, and Stiles blushed. “I better uh,” Stiles motioned towards his bedroom. “Yeah, goodnight.”

He watched Stiles stumble away before retreating into his own room, feeling a weird mix of emotions.


End file.
